


Seven Pillars as an epic poem: The Introduction

by thisisaslongas (mayamaia)



Series: Poetry Prompts [3]
Category: Lawrence of Arabia, Seven Pillars of Wisdom - T. E. Lawrence
Genre: Gen, History is awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayamaia/pseuds/thisisaslongas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as it says on the tin.  I must clearly be insane. The prompt was: "do you write epic poems in hexametric rhyming coupletts? seven pillars is just the right kind of epic subject for such an endeavour…"</p><p>And then I went and did it because I have no sense of self-preservation and thought it would be fun.  (It was, of course, but then I have a funny sense of fun.) Anyway, bydbach was defending her viva that day.  I finished the introduction - through chapter VII - in about a week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Pillars as an epic poem: The Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> What the hell is WRONG with me?!

Dedications:

(Note: It is vast folly to reduce the poem To S.A. to a pair of couplets. Forgive me, for I am full of folly)

I loved you, so to build you Freedom, bright, I strove  
But Death in envy broke my heart, corrupted Love  
Which reached you ere the Earth and worms your body share  
And so your House I broke, undone. 'Twas right, not fair.

Before I write this book on the Arab Revolt  
The names of those who helped me should not from it molt  
As if unneeded for they truely vastly were  
And what I write here is flawed mem’ry, all unsure  
So here I listed many men near to my heart  
But could not list the rank and file who did their part

Introductory Chapter:

This story first in Paris from my notes and wit  
I started; but I lost it so it's now re-writ  
The record of events, dates, places is as true  
As I could make; which for the names I could not do  
I say but little for the British fighting men  
'Twas Arab war, by Arabs fought, Arabian

My part was poor though often spoke and easily seen  
I had no rank as Arab, nor a heavy lean  
On British plans. I cannot speak for others work  
But for my own; in their words I would likewise lurk.  
My tale bears no great lessons nor should shock the world  
But little things and private ones are here unfurled  
The passions of the young strive to ignite their dreams  
Then old men come to warp the work toward useful themes

My goals were mad and for a nation's lofty aim  
I'm told I ruined British needs and British gain  
I fear I hope that's true for many lives of men  
are spent to pay for things worth little now or then

Three years of work for which I wish no good rewards  
Three years of British lies to Arabs with my words  
Though from the start those promises we freely made  
Were clearly false, yet still I Arab leaders bade  
Follow the British plan in hope that with the arms  
That we provided they might gain respect of harm  
I never should have as an Arab's honest friend  
Encouraged so much work for such a doubtful end.

Chapter I

Some evils from our circumstances, hopes and thoughts  
May come; for slaved we were to them and thus we fought  
Morals, wisdom, will our battered bodies hotly fled  
Passions wracked the mem'ry and the live envied the dead  
The soul- abandoned bodies of the men rebelled  
With strange desires, angers, simple nature-felled  
The Arab suffered little but our men were fraught  
In one another quenched and Hell or Heaven wrought

As I was sent among them, different though a friend  
There were such rifts between us as I could not mend  
There were things done for which I shan't apologize  
For in that place and moment nothing else was wise

One might force others to act as what they are not  
Or hide himself as one of them (which he cannot)  
Our great rewards were surely stark as the raw pains  
Alas I see the hurts now clearer than the gains  
One loses in himself his former culture's face  
But yet can never gain a new one's innate grace  
My Western past is now a hollow loss to me  
A hole unfilled; all deeds of men unfit to see

Chapter II

A hurdle for the Arab Movement was the name  
For Arabs were of many tribes and none the same  
Their common language in a diverse map was spoke  
Thin edges farmed but at its heart were desert folk  
In center of the desert at oases fair  
Was found the soul of Arab thinking everywhere

A migratory pattern crossed that dusty sea  
From Yemen, born of richness and much progeny  
Through drier lands to barren ones by camel trade  
To nomad life new groups of Bedouin were made  
These same in time might cross the desert to the north  
And there find grassland where a shepherd has some worth  
And thence towards Syria and fertile crescent green  
The nomad tamed to farmer still had desert dreams

Chapter III

If "Arab" were thus seen as overarching race  
Then those of tribe and town must have similar face  
And this was seen best in their native-patterned thought  
In which a certain hard-edged clarity was wrought  
Dogmatic, black and white without the shades we see  
Truth or untruth, superlative extremity

Their arts were few though they patroned expansively  
What they produced, religions, not philosophy  
Indeed they had almost monopolized this art  
Their three religions stretched into Earth's every part  
Yet of the Arab dogmas these a smattering  
Thousands of prophets had followed their patterning  
A man of wealth and city left his crowded home  
And in the desert lost it all to madly roam  
Returning with a glimpse of God back to the mob  
He would be mocked and chided for his holy job  
Though Jew, Muslim and Christian set their hearts afire  
Some thousands others perished on the city's spire

Whatever made the so-called Semite meet with God  
Was something built into his mind, a soul unshod  
I saw this first when wandering through ancient rooms  
Built out of clays mixed, shaped and baked with fine perfumes  
Then Dahoum drew me, last, to smell the best of these  
Where desert winds, clean, pure could wash the heart to ease  
The Arabs in their hearts turned from the works of men  
To nothingness, ascetic and of basic ken  
There freedom lay, and God, who must be in all things  
For all were in God, beautiful and slavering  
The name lay ever on their lips, cleanly expressed  
And we who made it short and sharp are left unblessed  
The desert dweller freely took his joys and lusts  
Yet in the town the worldless life succumbed to rusts

The desert born would, faithful, serve a prophet's creed  
Until success had robbed them of imminent need  
Yet every wave of effort broken on the shore  
Would wear the cliffs of decadence and worldly lore  
One such of these I led to splash Damascus, green,  
Perhaps the next wave rises from our work, unseen.

Chapter IV

Though Arab empire spoke of their brief efforts' power  
Once-conquered nations easily left the wedding bower  
Clean Arab minds would shun administration's chains  
So Turkish men infiltrated and stole their gains  
From servants, helpers, politicians, enemies  
The Turkish creep and rot soon grew to grasp and seize  
The power, changing from ideals to gendarme rule  
Suppressing Arab thought and language in the schools

Rebellions erupted Arab vassal states  
Subtler, defenses of their intellectual fates  
When Arabic was banished from official word  
They filled the Turkish with it so it might be heard  
Their map was stolen from them by the Turkish scribes  
Who fostered angered jealousies between the tribes  
But in the language they held their identity  
The Koran proved its place with heaven's entity

Some hope arose with the advent of the Young Turks  
In their determination to alter the works  
Of the Sultan who claimed from Heaven temporal reign.  
Nationalistic phrases would ignite the same  
In subject nations ready to regain their worth  
Imagining allies in that bright Turkish rebirth  
But no, they were suppressed even more viciously  
So underground they sparked anew and fervently

Mesopotamian officers built the Ahad  
The Turkish military birthed an Arab rod  
To turn against its parent when rebellion came  
But would not wield itself for French and British claims

Greater, the Fetah, secret throughout Syria  
The middle class, the rich, intelligenzia  
Sought to corrupt the Turkish empire to the core  
Turk hands were freed to return strike by coming war  
A Frenchman's papers gave the Turks a good excuse  
To crush an Arab club but it was little use  
It merely warned the Fetah to a greater care  
To not suffer the same fate the Armenians shared  
Who had, Christian and Moslem, to the same scaffold  
Been led and killed - which united rebellion sold.

The Turks, untrusting, scattered Arab armies wide  
In hopes that they'd be weakened by the Allied side  
To build their strength, the Caliph declared Holy War  
And told Mecca's Sherif to echo back the roar

Chapter V

The name "Sherif of Mecca" had a noble bent  
The title of Sherif implied Prophet's descent  
Recorded in the rolls at Mecca carefully  
Temporal rule stayed in Mohammed's family  
These Emirs had a pow'r beyond the Turk's control  
And so the Sultan claimed to verify their role  
Over the years he strengthened his hegemony  
By arms, intrigues, Canal, railway and last, money  
Should the Emir prove stronger than the Sultan's need  
He'd be deposed and rivals given Mecca's deed  
When this was not enough, some of the family  
Were taken into honorable captivity  
Hussein ibn Ali was thus kept for eighteen years  
So his sons' education came from Turkish peers

The Young Turks threw the Emir back to home again  
Where while he grew stronger among the Arab men  
He left two sons to keep an eye on Turkish thought  
Abdulla and young Feisal told him what they sought  
When war broke out they hurried back to Mecca's walls  
Where pilgrimage no longer packed the hallowed halls  
This placed them at the mercy of Turkish goodwill  
If Indian food-ships failed to grant them succor still  
Should Mecca fail to help the Sultan shout 'Jehad'  
The Holy Cities could fall hard beneath his rod  
And yet shrewd, obstinate, deeply pious Hussein  
Refused the call to echo back that Turkish claim

He sent Feisal to talk with Fetah and Ahad  
And to Medina, Ali, to raise the Hejaz  
on any excuse needed. And to British, word  
Through Abdulla he implied Revolt was proffered

In early '15 Feisal sent a cool report  
That despite fertile ground inside the Syrian fort  
The war was going poorly for their longterm goals.  
But as the Dardanelles campaign claimed many souls  
He thought it might have made it time to strike at last  
Then back in Syria it turned out the chance had passed  
As guest of Jemal Pasha he must watch and wait  
Seeing his best supporters meet a gruesome fate  
The Arab armies exiled, and their peasantry  
conscripted; but worse the secret society  
Which he had led paraded to the hangman's noose  
He could not safely help them nor his tongue unloose  
While Jemal Pasha mocked and watched, good Feisal seethed  
Just once he spoke, and might never again have breathed

Despite his son's wise warnings not to rashly act  
Hussein trusted to Justice and ordered him back  
To Medina to raise the crimson flag of war  
It might have worked but for an unexpected chore:  
Jamal and Enver Pasha made themselves his guests  
And hospitality made safe the Arab nest  
When Ali of Modhig asked "Shall we kill them now"  
"No", Feisal said, "They are our guests", would not allow  
though sheiks protested. Feisal pleaded for the lives  
Of these two who had killed his friends in their own hives

His anxious guardianship of these within his tents  
Made them suspicious; they ordered reinforcements  
And further the Hejaz was giv'n a strict blockade  
Feisal himself might languish in Damascus shade  
But telegrams called him to come restore order  
...His hostages were kept behind the Turk border  
Success would not be easy with the Turks forewarned  
Medina Fakhri Pasha held, his troops full-formed  
Yet 'twas too late, so Feisal's suite Damascus fled  
And that same day he raised the Arab flag of red

Rebellion was the gravest step those men could make  
Succeed or fail, a gamble hazardous to take  
'Gainst prophecy; still fortune smiled on the bold  
To shake the Arab epic from the stagnant old  
Though victory shrunk their hopes to disillusioned grace  
Still deathless inspiration shone upon their race.

Chapter VI

Before the war had I traversed Semitic East  
Upland and down, I mingled with the social least  
Being myself so poor that I could little spend  
My time with those whose company all Europe tends  
I gained, for us, an unusually angled view  
Of ignorant as clear as of the wise and true

Turkey, I saw, was crumbling due to overreach  
From trying, unsupported, to hold every peach  
Of that fair empire which had been bequeathed to them  
As change in world and warfare did their race condemn  
They were the slowest to accept machinery  
That progress bid them fade into the scenery  
With the Young Turks agility returned anew  
But isolated commons from the ruling few  
Who were of each group but Seljuk or Ottoman  
Turkey was dying, knife alone could save her then.

The Anatolian peasant was to service bred  
The conscripts from their ranks by nature easily led  
So neutral that their every act was calmly done  
The best and the most evil birthed beneath the sun  
Their showy-vicious officers drove them to death  
By pox and worse the Levantine used every breath  
And made them into poorer men than they had been  
That military broke its sword and dulled its keen

A greater race or power, then, was needed here  
To match and best the Turks' annihilistic shear  
No European grafting could fulfill the role  
All such previous efforts had been swallowed whole  
Yet there was local talent ready and to spare  
The Arabs after centuries gasping for free air  
So some of us began to seek to bend the thought  
Of Mother England toward this solution we'd caught

Our leader then was Clayton, whose sobriety  
And courage gave deserved responsibility  
His efforts were so subtle his touch was unfelt  
But before him all barriers would gently melt  
Then first among us stood the brilliant Ronald Storrs  
Whose quick mind made the moulds wherein our cements poured  
George Lloyd was confidence, planted financial seed  
He never stayed long though we did like him indeed  
Mark Sykes, an advocate of every flighty scheme  
Made caricatures of issues one should weighty deem  
He saw too late his errors though he tried his best  
To mend them, but none listened, ere God gave him rest.

Not one of us but mentor was Hogarth the wise  
Whose friendly ear and staunch support gained us allies  
With him Cornwallis, passionate though seeming grim  
And others still at their own labours behind him  
We called ourselves "Intrusive", for to enter halls  
Of policy we wished, to heed the Arab calls  
To first feelers which years before Abdulla sent  
Were added soon our thoughts by Sir McMahon's consent

Alas it was too late for Mesopotamia,  
Lord Kitchener's efforts ignored by India  
In hopes of building for themselves a colony  
Which meant they'd broke negotiation off swiftly  
They interned Seyid Taleb, head of the Ahad  
Who'd in good faith come to our hands, without a nod  
Then into Basra marched and thought the enemy green  
But 'twere all Arabs who for this fight were not keen  
Who for oppressors 'gainst hoped liberators fought  
Once Turks replaced them, the Indian army was caught

THEN we repented with the fall of Erzerum  
And I was sent to scout the troubled garrison  
The British there did not like that I was present  
Two Generals declaimed the lack of their consent  
They called my mission (which they did not really know)  
Dishonorable for soldiers (was I one - well, no)  
I saw it was too late for Kut at any rate  
So I did nothing there and left them to their fate  
Had they made better use of what conditions lent  
They should have been th'unstoppable Arab Movement

As this was not the way that things were pursued there  
I did not stay, and never did the British fare  
At all well in Irak till the end of the war  
As they stayed aliens upon a hostile shore  
Compared to Allenby's more kind, friendly approach  
They suffered much and died much in their fierce encroach

Chapter VII

Despite the troubles Mesopotamia disgorged  
McMahon at last with Mecca had achieved accord  
Some skeptics had presumed the Sherif would not rise  
Against the Turk and thus his revolt opened eyes  
And now internal jealousies reared ugly heads  
Sir Archibald Murray would weed his planting beds  
Of campaigns that competed with him in his sphere  
But as he was unprepped to meet with Arab peers  
He could not guide our efforts to support Hejaz  
And thus he covered them with politician's gauze  
This left McMahon to Foreign Office Attaches  
Who trivialized and buried needs in routine's maze  
Wingate despite his confidence in our broad plans  
Let criticism separate him from McMahon

So things in the Hejaz moved on from bad to worse  
With all our Allied efforts underneath this curse  
No liason was sent, no prepared strategy  
The local needs were given no proper study  
French Military Mission was allowed free reign  
To undermine the allies we had barely gained  
Wingate let foreign troops be placed in the Hejaz  
And Murray mocked McMahon for his unfocused Cause  
The Revolt thus discredited, the Egypt Staff  
Foresaw death for Sherif Hussein and simply laughed

My own place was not easy. I, confined to maps  
Started the Arab Bulletin to teach those chaps  
What really was proceeding in the Arab world  
So Clayton came to need me more as all unfurled  
When Clayton was removed and Holdich took command  
His retention of me seemed meant to stay my hand  
So I sought to escape; I turned to stratagems  
To make myself a nuisance to the clucking hens  
On the Canal, who boiled in their ignorance  
And soon they begged the General to send me hence  
I took the chance to beg a leave to spend with Storrs  
Who was to meet the Great Sherif, thus quit those bores!  
They planned on my return to give me busywork  
But Clayton helped me transfer from Egyptian murk  
The Arab Bureau now obtained my services  
And Storrs and I marched off in smug impertinence

And thus I moved around the square by its three sides  
An Oriental method that I shall confide  
Was in my heart and nature. Had I been a more  
Professional good soldier I'd have sat and swore  
As all my efforts came to wreck in proper way  
For British officers: NON NOBIS, DOMINE


End file.
